


Every Inch of Me

by tebtosca



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Jared, Cowboys, D/s elements, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Felching, M/M, Power Play, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Sex Toys, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 00:04:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5948320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tebtosca/pseuds/tebtosca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen teaches his ranch hand Jared a little something about respect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Inch of Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old fic that I posted under a pseudonym about four years ago. Decided to claim it so I could share with you guys :)

It’s about respect, really. Earning it, deserving it, keeping it. Jared forgets that sometimes. Jensen knows this as well as he knows that he has to make sure Jared is reminded.

“Padalecki,” Jensen calls out, watches his crew fall into line in front of him. He tips his hat back, wipes the sweat off his brow, but never lowers his eyes. This is his ranch, his land. There is only one person that makes the decisions around here and it sure as hell ain’t a cocky ranch hand who thinks the sun shines out of his dimples.

“Yeah, Jensen?” Jared throws back, nonchalant, like he didn’t almost fuck up Jensen’s deal with his feed supplier by opening his big fat mouth.

“That’s Boss to you, boy,” Jensen replies, voice as steady as his gaze. He’s dealt with his fair share of young bucks in his time; Jared isn’t nothing he hasn’t seen before, even if the package he’s wrapped in is a little bit bigger than usual.

Jared’s jaw twitches a bit, and Jensen’s foreman Kane smirks from his side. One of the other hands, Murray, barely manages to cover his guffaw, but one look from Kane shuts him up. 

“Yeah, _Boss?_ ” Jared tries again contritely, but he stands up straighter in what looks like an attempt to enhance his already great six-foot-forever height. 

Jensen looks at Jared silently for a moment, letting him stew under the Texas sun and the uncomfortable gaze of his co-workers. “You know what you did, Padalecki, so I don’t think I need to repeat myself. After you eat Samantha’s grub tonight, I want you to go clean out the old barn behind the main house. Maybe a little hard work will do a body good.”

Jared’s eyelids lower to half-mast. “Will do, Boss.”

 _Respect_ , Jensen thinks.

++++

Jared looks good like this. 

Naked as the day he was born. Long body stretched out in supplication. Skin kissed brown from the sun of daily life and shiny with the sweat of a lazy August evening.

His shoulders blades raise sharply, pulled snug by the rope tying his hands behind his back. His fingers flex against it, opening and closing in indecision. His spine dips, curving like a wave down to the rounded melon globes of his ass. The glutes squeeze, tighten. The shine of perspiration makes them glisten in the soft light of the barn.

“Gonna be hard to clean like this,” Jared drawls. 

Jensen ghosts his hand down the outline of Jared’s spine, not actually touching but not letting Jared know if it’s going to stay that way. “I don’t know, Jay. You still have that big mouth of yours—bet there are a few things that tongue could clean up.”

Jared laughs, but it hitches when the movement rubs his cock against the harsh fabric covering the bale of hay he’s balancing on. Jared struggles a bit to lift his head up, and Jensen can see the muscles in his neck working. “If that’s all you wanted, we could have done this without trussing me up like a hog at the fair.”

Jensen kneels down in front of him, lifts Jared’s chin with the tip of one finger. “Who says this is about what I want?”

Jensen runs his palm down Jared’s Adam’s apple just to feel how hard he swallows.

He stands up and walks slowly around Jared’s bent and beautiful body, observing, letting his gaze sink into Jared’s skin like a physical thing. Jared’s head is hanging down again, long chestnut hair throwing his face into shadows. Jensen knows that Jared can sense him, though. Knows that Jared is fully aware of every move he’s making and anticipating what he can’t possibly be ready for.

Jensen’s always prepared. He was a boy scout as a kid, head of his class in school, and the first and only person thought of to run the ranch after his Pa died. It’s the beautiful symmetry of order that keeps his life calm and running the way it should.

Jared Padalecki messes it up sometimes, messes him up. Talks back in a way that Kane or Murray never would. Looks at Jensen with a gleam of possession in his eye that he doesn’t deserve. Thinks he’s got a power that Jensen will never allow him to have.

It’s okay though, because Jensen knows what Jared needs and is more than happy to give it to him.

Jensen opens the small chest he has balanced on another bale of hay nearby. Keeps himself just barely in Jared’s line of sight, knowing how hard Jared is struggling between holding his head up and resting his cheek against rough hay. 

Jensen pulls out a tube of lube and saunters slowly back over towards Jared’s body. He drags the cap of it down the length of Jared’s spine, tapping each vertebra lightly and then tugging at the ropes binding his wrists together. Goosebumps rise up on Jared’s flesh, even though the air is damp and musty.

Jensen’s methodical about it when he gets to where he wants. Jared’s raised just high enough for Jensen to bracket Jared’s lower body with his own legs, Jared’s ass tilting up like an offering. Jensen squirts the slick on the index finger of his right hand and the only sound in the barn is the squelch of it. Jared’s breath increases as Jensen uses his clean hand to part Jared’s cheek and run the slick finger around the tight, twitching furl of Jared’s hole.

“You shouldn’t have talked to Beaver without me present,” Jensen says calmly, finger sliding in to the hilt in one slick motion.

“I’m sorry, Jensen,” Jared gasps.

“What was that?” Jensen demands, finger sliding over the curves of his inner walls.

“I’m sorry, Boss.”

“Good boy.”

Jensen presses in a second finger and Jared’s nails dig half moons in his own palms.

Jensen pulls out, adds more lube, and then plunges back in with three fingers straight up to the webbing. Jared’s ass clenches around the digits, milking his hand like he’s desperate for it.

Jensen pulls out and Jared lets out what could only be called a whine.

“Your problem is that you have no control over yourself,” Jensen says, walking leisurely back to the chest, making sure Jared’s frustrated face is staring at him in his peripheral. Jensen pulls out a long, slim dildo, the plastic black and smooth. Jared catches a glimpse and his breath catches in his throat.

After taking his place back behind Jared’s prone form, Jensen slicks up the toy and teases the quickly pinkening rim of Jared’s hole. Traces it down the tender skin of his perineum, around his balls and then back up again, until he presses the tip of it through the ring of muscle. It pops through and Jared grunts. All it does is make Jensen want to push it in more, so he does, almost to the hilt while leaving a few inches out to grab on to.

“Hold it in,” Jensen demands, letting go of the dildo, and Jared groans. Jared’s rim twitches, straining to hold the toy inside, trying so hard to do its job and keep all that hardness up firm against its inner walls.

Jensen walks back up towards Jared’s head, wrapping his lube slicked hand in Jared’s hair and tugging his head up until Jared’s face is flush against the bulge pushing at the zipper of Jensen’s Levis. Jared’s tongue comes out instinctively to lick the denim and Jensen presses into it for a second before stepping back.

Instead, Jensen reaches over and grabs Jared’s cowboy hat before resting it on Jared’s head. 

“Don’t drop the hat,” Jensen says, holding Jared’s head up again with one hand while unzipping his jeans with the other.

Jared sucks Jensen’s finger, shiny with lube and musky with his own taste, into his mouth, suckling it with as much concentration as he can as he tries to keep both the hat on his head and the plastic dick in his ass. Jensen can see how much he’s straining, sees the veins in his neck and the ripple of flesh along his back. Sees the dimples of Jared’s ass deepening until they are almost as endless as the ones on his face.

Jensen pulls his finger out of Jared’s mouth with a pop, a strand of saliva still connecting them. He uses the hand, wet from Jared’s mouth, to guide his own dick, hard and angry red, back into the open space. He balances his cock on the pillow of Jared’s tongue, lets him get used to the feel of it, and feels Jared swallow a few times around the intrusion.

“Control, Jared,” Jensen tells him, a bit of roughness invading his voice and threatening to announce how much this little lesson is affecting him as well.

“Yes, Boss,” Jared mumbles around Jensen’s cock, the pull of his throat milking it enough for Jensen to hiss a bit. 

“I’m gonna count to ten. You’re gonna be a good boy and get my cock nice and warm.”

Jared swallows again, and the hat wobbles precariously.

“One. If you drop the hat, I’m going to start over again. Two.”

Jared stills, pushing through the strain like a beautiful statue.

“Three. How does that dick feel in your ass? Four.”

Jensen can see the dildo pulsing in between Jared’s cheeks, the nub sticking out shaking with it.

“Five. Don’t push, baby, just hold it. Six.”

Jared’s eyes slip shut, his brows relaxing as he suckles Jensen’s dick like a bottle.

“Seven. So good for me, Jay. Eight.”

A trickle of sweat runs down Jared’s forehead, painting his eyelid, yet he stays still and tight.

“Nine. I knew you could do it. Ten.”

Jensen’s dick slips out of Jared’s mouth and Jared takes in a huge breath, the hat knocking to the floor and into the dust. Jensen slides a hand over Jared’s hair, scritching the back of his neck in congratulations.

Jensen needs one more thing out of the chest, letting Jared take a moment to breathe as Jensen takes out a thin leather riding crop and smacks it against his own palm. Jared’s wet, hazy eyes look over at the sound, widening slightly, but he licks his lips when Jensen slides his hand up and down the handle.

“You’ve done such a good job holding that fake dick up in you. I think your hole deserves a little something for all the hard work it’s doing.”

Jensen slides the crop down the curve where Jared’s lower back meets his ass, before rearing back and bringing it back down on the meat of it with a thwack.

Jared cries out, and the dildo jiggles wildly, threatening to slide out. Jensen presses it back in with his free hand, holding it there tight to Jared’s body as he uses the other one to lay three more smacks in quick succession.

Jared’s shoulders are shaking, and his cries sound wet with tears. Jensen rubs his hand roughly over burning hot flesh, drags his nails through the redness until thin streaks of white show up. He rests the crop on Jared’s back, balancing it along Jared’s spine.

Jensen tugs on the end of the dildo, sliding it halfway out and squeezing more lube onto it before shoving it back in. He does that steadily for a minute or two, working Jared open until the rim is puffy, yet loose enough to press his own heated flesh up against it.

“What are you doing?” Jared moans, voice wrecked in a way that makes Jensen’s heart want to sing.

“You’re taking this fake dick so good, but I think your hole is a little lonely. Needs a little bit more,” Jensen grits his teeth as he tries as carefully as possible to stretch Jared’s rim enough for him to get his entire dick inside. Jensen stills as Jared thrashes involuntarily, and his dick pulsates against the smooth slide of plastic.

“Take it,” Jensen demands, hitching his hips forward with minute little movements. He adjusts the angle of the dildo just a bit and it must hit Jared’s prostate because he cries out with something beyond pain.

“It won’t fit,” Jared sobs, wrists rubbing against the rope, fingers red with the strain.

“It’s already fitting, baby. You’re taking it so fucking good.”

Jensen manages to set up some sort of rhythm, alternately strokes of his own dick with the dildo as Jared grunts and shakes. Jared’s rubbing his dick frantically against the rough blanket, and Jensen bites his lip thinking about how raw it’s going to be, how much it’s going to burn. He thinks about trailing his tongue up the red skin of it, sucking the crown of Jared’s dick in his mouth and soothing all that hurt. He pictures Jared’s dick spurting come in his mouth, on his tongue, down his throat, and it’s just that thought alone that overwhelms him enough to come violently all over Jared’s insides.

Jensen rips the dildo out of Jared’s ass and then drops to his knees, lapping at the come dripping out of Jared’s hole. Jared’s screaming now, his entire body shaking like he’s got hypothermia, but Jensen just keeps sucking at Jared’s rim, swallowing his own come down like ambrosia.

“Come, baby, come for me,” Jensen breathes against Jared’s skin, and Jared shudders and comes, untouched, all over the blanket he’s laying on and his own belly.

“Jensen, Jensen,” Jared hiccups, and Jensen rushes to untie the rope around his wrists. Jensen rolls him off the bale of hay and holds Jared’s naked body close against his own clothed chest.

“So beautiful,” Jensen murmurs, petting the sweaty bangs off of Jared’s forehead as he cradles him. Jared’s big body is curled into him, all that might and ferocity reduced to this needy thing that Jensen wants to hold and bathe and comfort and love.

Jared messes him up so fucking badly, and yet, suddenly, that fact doesn’t scare him half as much as it did before.

“You owe me a massage, dickhead. My neck is killing me,” Jared mumbles from where he’s pressed up against Jensen’s clavicle.

“That’s Boss Dickhead to you,” Jensen corrects, and feels Jared smiling against his skin.

Yeah, it doesn’t scare him much at all.


End file.
